


Get On With It

by Teh_Poet



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Blackmail, Exhibitionism, M/M, Other, Prompt Fill, Solo, Teh Generator, Watersports, dubcon, general icky feelings, little redeeming factors here, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-27
Updated: 2014-12-27
Packaged: 2018-03-03 19:35:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2882273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teh_Poet/pseuds/Teh_Poet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Magnussen is blackmailing Lestrade, and Lestrade has no choice but to go along</p>
            </blockquote>





	Get On With It

**Author's Note:**

> The very first fic to come out of Teh Generator, a coding project designed to provide randomly generated prompts for fanfiction!
> 
> Soon, it will have a user friendly interface and will be available for public consumption, but in the meantime, enjoy teh awkward!
> 
> Teh Generator gave me: PROMPT- Lestrade Magnussen, NSY, exhibitionism, watersports-
> 
> It's teh very first Magstrade, everybody :D!

The dead-eyed stare was unnerving, more so than the words… He’d brought it on himself, really… He wasn’t stupid enough to echo the convictions of the stupid git who’d put him in the position in the first place… _that’s not fair, it certainly isn’t his fault_ The truth is Greg Lestrade would do anything for those he loves, as misguided a notion as that may be… _sentiments, indeed_

 

“So what exactly does this mean, then?” _eye contact, let him know you’re not afraid_

 

“It means that you’re going to do something for me, Detective Inspector…” _shark- he’s a shark_

 

“It sort of defeats the purpose if I end up getting sacked for abuse-of-power, isn’t it?” _hard edge, straight back- he may be able to bully me, but he won’t get away with walking all over me, I won’t allow it…_

 

“It depends on your definition of abuse of power…” _he can’t intimidate me he can’t_

 

“Just get it out and get on with it.” _What I wouldn’t give to slap some bracelets on you, you smug bastard…_

 

“Well, if you’re impatient to get started-” Greg’s blackmailer stood suddenly _not abrupt, but unexpected_ and his fingers competently dealt with the fastenings of his trousers.

 

“Now wait just a goddamned minute, what the fuck do you think you’re doing, mate?!” Lestrade recoiled, slapped in the face by the swift turn in the direction of the conversation.

 

“I’m _getting it out_ so we can _get on with it_ , now if you’ll oblige me by positioning yourself against that wall over there?” _that wall that is actually a window the fuck I will_

 

“No, there’s no fucking way-”

 

“Do please remember my purpose here, Detective Inspector, and therefore remember _your place_. I will do what I please because you _allow me to_ , that is how this relationship works.”

 

“Well what if I don’t want to _allow you to_ , you fuck-”

 

“You know the consequences of finishing that thought, my friend, do think carefully about your next words… Officially, I don’t care one way or another what you decide to do, but I have a feeling you’re slightly more invested.” _this motherfucker_

 

Greg sat back and took in the mess he’d somehow managed to let himself stumble into. The man who’d swept into his office with assertions and demands still stood before his desk, fisting his prick and a small smile lifting a corner of his mouth _he’s so sure I’m going to just roll over for him_ but then he stopped and thought about what the man had said- yes, there were consequences and yes, there was no way he was going to let them come to pass. He closed his eyes taking a second _just a second_ to let defeat infuse his muscles so that he sank back, becoming one with the chair for a moment _just a moment_. When he shook it off and opened his eyes again _Christ above, but I’ve never seen such predation_ steeling himself for what he was about to do-

 

“Where do you want me…” _grit teeth no way around it_

 

“I believe I already indicated the wall.” _the window, right_  
  
Lestrade moved to the door, intent on locking it so whatever madness was about to go down would happen unnoticed, but the eerie calm voice halted him-

 

”I don’t think so, do you?”

 

He turned and regarded his blackmailer warily. He was being afforded absolutely no power in this exchange. Christ but he wanted at least the privacy to preserve his dignity… At least the door was mostly closed- Somebody would have to actually come to his office rather than simply walk by to notice something was amiss… And if he wasn’t allowed to close the door, he’d definitely not be allowed to draw the blinds closed, but at least they obscured their activities somewhat… _if ever it were time for the team to live up to Sherlock’s denouements_

 

The Detective Inspector backed up against the window, careful not to crinkle the slats of the blinds and put his hands up in surrender, “What now?”

 

The other man walked towards him, cock still in hand, and Greg flinched. He had a history, but everything about this man was positively repugnant. _grit your teeth, shut your eyes, think of England, whatever it takes_

 

“I wasn’t going to ask you to, but your distaste is positively intoxicating. Take yours out, too.”

 

The casual statement threw him for just a second. Only a second, because it was belatedly painfully obvious that the man was intentionally rocking his world, keeping him on his toes and switching up the rules at the last second so he’d be treading water and flailing for a tow… A deep breath and he did as he was told, ready to just have the interaction over with.

 

“Well go on, stroke…” _damn infuriating fucking_

 

Greg sighed, squeezed his eyes, focused on the pain in his brow, and fondled his decidedly not-hard cock. There was no pleasure to be found in this- but he knew stopping was not an option. The silence was awkward, though, and did nothing to help his predicament.

 

“There’s nothing to stroke, this isn’t exactly arousing…” _if you grit your teeth any harder they’ll crack, Greg, get it together_

 

“Well then, we’ll just have to try harder, won’t we? But you and I both know you’re not being totally honest with yourself, are you? The idea that anybody could walk in and catch you getting off in your office in the middle of the day? With another man? That must send some thrill through your veins and into that flesh of yours.” 

It didn’t. It couldn’t. Except… There was maybe a tiny kernel of truth to the fact that getting caught might be the slightest bit arousing… It’s not like it was that weird, danger made one’s blood sing, the adrenaline was good for the libido, it’s a fairly well-known fact, it didn’t make him weird. But dammit now he was thinking about it and maybe the image of Donovan knocking the door open and seeing him with his hand down his pants was giving him a twitch _don’t fight it, you need it, just bloody well work with it_ and what if she wasn’t alone, what would John or Sherlock say if they swanned in with information on a case or chat him up for old files, and they saw him standing there groaning and shivering like a teenager who can’t keep it together for eight hours without needing to go and have a wank… The both of them were bloody gorgeous, in their own ways, what if they decided to take advantage and join him? _not bloody likely_ still the image was tantalizing and he was beginning to fill out, he finally had something he could wrap his fist around and now the sensation was enough to drive him forward. If his eyes were closed, and he pretended he was alone, and the mad bastard in front of him didn’t try to touch him or talk or breath _fucking great now I’m losing it again_

 

“Look, I don’t know what you want me to do here, this isn’t my idea of a good time…” He was trying for rye, but he was honestly understandably frustrated, and was contemplating the forms he’d have to fill out if he decided shooting the man actually was worth the consequences, when there was a sound just outside the door. His eyes snapped open and he whipped his head around in a panic to see who it was, but they weren’t trying to get in- they must have stopped at the filing cabinet… He looked back at Magnussen, hoping perhaps he’d call the game off now they were both about to be found out, but he was met with an infuriating twinkle and the man put a finger to his lips _shhhh_ and his eyes flicked down to Greg’s crotch, the message clear _get on with it_.

 

He was absolutely repellant, and Greg wanted nothing more than to smash his face in, break those teeth and blacken his eyes, but the surge of rage got his blood pumping enough to counteract the flagging of his burgeoning erection so he decided to use it. If he kept tugging maybe he could get there. _great bouncing perky tits, a head in his lap drooling and sucking, stockings that ended just under the curve of an arse, anything to keep it going_ The sounds outside his door grew louder, someone else arrived and a conversation began… They were close enough, if he made any noise they might hear _shit_ maybe they’d want to investigate _fuck_ they were police, after all, they were naturally curious creatures _no (yes)_ his breath hitched, and he let his fist move quicker, chasing down the spark of heat low in his gut _the faster the better_ he could be almost done, just a little bit more-

 

He heard it before he felt it, but it didn’t register exactly what it was at first- but then he realized his thigh was warm, but he hadn’t come yet _and just what the fuck?!_ His eyes flew open again in outrage, he could only stand gobsmacked as the monster in front of him let loose a stream of urine, hitting his thigh and splashing in all directions- Lestrade spluttered, tried for anything, but he was struck dumb by the sheer inanity of the situation _the fucker is having a slash on me_

 

“I had hoped you were a little further along, but never mind, it’s not important… I enjoyed our meeting today, Detective Inspector, I look forward to the next one,” and with that he zipped his trousers and walked through the door-

 

Greg was left standing, still in hand and still a bit hard, feeling filthy and incredulous, but also overwhelmingly embarrassed and powerless…It was an ugly swirl of confusion and dismay—

 

He really hoped somebody killed the bastard before it was all over.

**Author's Note:**

> If you're interested in receiving a prompt from Teh Generator, and are too impatient to wait for it to exit beta, leave a comment or a note with what elements you'd like in your prompt! Your choices are:  
> pairing  
> sex act  
> location  
> kink  
> au type


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